


A Yearning Satisfied

by emynn



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3444812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emynn/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a year since Justin's moved to New York, and he's missing Brian more than ever. But there's something in the air, and it's about to turn Justin's shitty day into something pretty damn spectacular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Yearning Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Britin 30 Day Challenge on Tumblr, Prompt #3: “Yearning’s when you want something really badly. Like… so bad it hurts.” “Exactly. It needs to hurt to be worthy of the word.” - Queer as Folk, Season 1, Episode 4.
> 
> Also, I've been feeling badly about inflicting so much angst on you lately that I felt it was time for some unabashed romance as a palate cleanser. Enjoy. :)

Justin dropped his bag to the ground and stretched out on the grass. He’d slept in his studio the night before, hoping he’d find some inspiration in the late hour with the aid of a handle of vodka, but all he was left with was a hangover and a stiff back. _Fuck_ , he was so screwed. He’d been out in New York for barely a year and already he was losing his inspiration. What kind of shit artist was he?

He took out his sketch pad and some pens, hoping something out here would jog his imagination. He just needed some sunshine, some fresh air. It was being trapped in his studio that was stressing him out. All those blank canvases taunting him. That’s all it was.

The realization that it was all bullshit struck him the second Justin looked up and saw two guys making out on a blanket just a few feet away.

All of a sudden, that dull, heavy pain he’d been feeling in his chest so often these days exploded into something far more intense, far more difficult to ignore. _Christ_ , he missed Brian. It hit him at the oddest times -- when he was brushing his teeth and realized there was nobody bitching at him about the toothpaste he left in the sink, when he was cooking himself dinner and instinctively made enough for two, when he was walking to his studio and heard footsteps alongside him and briefly thought it must be Brian before remembering he was in fucking New York and there were _always_ footsteps alongside him. Just not the ones he wanted to hear.

He’d known it’d be hard. To go from seeing Brian every day, having him always within an arm’s length away, to actually having to schedule phone calls so they wouldn’t be stuck playing a perpetual game of phone tag like they had for their first month apart was obviously a huge adjustment. But Justin had his art. He could actually have a career here, have a life bigger and brighter than he ever could have imagined. And, for a while, New York distracted him from that constant ache inside of him. The perks of living in the city that never sleeps.

But now all Justin could focus on were the absences, all the places he looked and expected to see Brian and not having him there. No wonder he couldn’t paint. He’d always drawn inspiration from Brian. How the fuck do you paint a void?

It didn’t help that Brian had been so swamped with work lately. For a while he had been coming up to New York nearly every other weekend, but now Justin was lucky if he saw him once a month. Something about a huge account that was stealing all of his time. Justin knew it was stupid to be jealous of an account, knew he shouldn’t take it personally, but it was pretty hard not to at this point.

Justin took out his cell phone, weighing it in his palm. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to hear Brian’s voice right now. But on the other, he wasn’t sure he could take hearing Brian distractedly saying hello and then promising to call him back when the work day was over which, these days, seemed to be well after midnight. 

_Fuck it._

Brian answered on the second ring. “Good morning, Sunshine.”

And just like that, Justin’s mood lifted. “Is it?”

“Very good,” Brian said. “You know that client I was telling you about? The one that’s been sucking at my soul the past few months?”

Of course he did. How could he fucking forget, when it was part of the reason Justin was so goddamn miserable? “Yeah.”

“Big meeting’s today. Could be a game changer.”

“That’s great, Brian.”

“Yeah. Actually, I was about to call you. I need an artist’s opinion.”

Justin smiled. It may not have been what he was really looking for, to call Brian and hear him ramble on about work, but the enthusiasm in his voice was contagious. Usually Brian adopted a rather blasé attitude before going into these types of meetings, so he must be feeling really good about this one. “Shoot.”

“Big client. Want to impress him. I’m wearing my charcoal Armani suit. Do I go with the blue tie or the red?”

“Neither,” Justin said. “Go with the purple. Remember the one I made you buy when you were here last time? It’s classic but unexpected. Makes a bold statement without crossing the line over to garish.”

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Brian said. 

“Well, I’m glad my art skills are helping _somebody_ ,” Justin muttered.

“Still stuck?” Brian asked. 

“Yeah,” Justin admitted. “I came to Central Park hoping it would help, but it’s so hard when I…” 

“Am too busy yearning for the hottest, most attentive lover you’ve ever had in your life, I know.”

Christ, he _knew_ he knew that was going to come back to haunt him. Take seven shots of tequila, mix with a hearty splash of horniness and stir in a whole fucking bottle of missing Brian like hell, shake well, and pour out to your long-distance boyfriend some maudlin shit about how the only thing you learned from St. James’ was a pretty cool definition of the word yearning, that it was wanting something so badly it hurt and how acutely you can relate to it now. Justin should have known. It was a classic recipe.

“Shut up,” he said.

“Justin.”

Justin sighed and closed his sketch pad. It was a lost cause. “Yeah?”

“I yearn for you, too.”

Justin rubbed his hand over his face. Brian still wasn’t prone to frequent declarations of his feelings, and he never would be. Justin didn’t mind; it made moments like these that much more meaningful. But it also made him even more aware of how far apart they were from each other, and how Justin wanted nothing more than to take Brian in his arms and tuck his head into his shoulder.

“Anyway, if I nail this client, I think we’ll be able to see much more of each other again.”

“Is that right?” Justin said. “Well, in that case, knock’em dead.”

“As if there were any doubt,” Brian said. “So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?”

Justin glanced back at the couple. They were standing up now, holding hands while looking at each other with disgustingly lovestruck expressions on their faces. That was even worse. “Probably go back to my apartment and lament the fact I ever thought it would be a good idea to become a poor, struggling artist in the big city.”

Brian laughed. “Why don’t you stop by that wine market we went to the first time I came to visit and pick up a bottle along the way? I’ve always said that Shiraz pairs well with a good sulk.”

It’s true. He did say that. “Fine. Call me later?”

“Later,” Brian promised, and hung up the phone.

It wasn’t a bad idea, actually, Justin thought as he packed up his things and headed to the subway. Maybe a little day drinking would spur his imagination. He wondered if Kyle was working today. Justin had sucked him off once, and ever since he’d give him a free box of his favorite truffles whenever he stopped by. Brian had laughed his ass off when Justin told him. “See, I told you, Sunshine,” he’d said. “I knew your fellatio skills would pay off one day.”

Justin’s question was answered the second he walked in the door.

“Hey, Justin!” Kyle shouted, waving him over. “We’ve been waiting for you. Got your package right here.”

Justin frowned. “My package?”

“Everything you ordered,” Kyle said, gesturing to a large crate on a nearby table. “Six bottles of wine, two red, two white, two sparkling, assorted cheeses, smoked salmon, crackers, grapes, pasta, our house-made sauce, chocolate-covered pretzels.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I know you ordered the truffles, but I threw those in for free. Between us.”

Justin nodded, taking in the contents of the crate. He’d been set up; this had Brian’s fingerprints all over it. The only question was why. Was it his way of apologizing for being so busy the past few months?

“Thanks, Kyle,” Justin said. He eyed the crate. When Brian decided to make a gesture, he went all out. Unfortunately, that didn’t always equate to practical. This thing was going to be a bitch to haul home on the subway, and he wasn’t sure he had enough cash on him to take a cab all the way home. He picked up the crate, wincing a bit at the weight of it, and gave Kyle a nod before heading out.

And bumped into what was clearly part two of Brian’s plan to keep Justin in a state of shock and awe. 

“Allow me to take that, Mr. Taylor.”

Justin gaped as a man in a crisp black suit held out his hands for the crate. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“James, sir.”

“Well, thanks, James, but I think I’ll manage.”

“Mr. Kinney instructed me that if you said that, I was to tell you to --” James cleared his throat. “‘Get your hot little ass in the goddamn limo, Sunshine, and enjoy the free champagne.’”

Justin blinked. Well, it certainly sounded like Brian.

But when he got in, he ignored the champagne. Instead, he punched the first number on his speed dial, biting his lip as Brian’s phone rang and rang. 

“Brian Kinney, leave a message.”

“Brian, you little shit,” Justin said. “I’m onto you. Call me back.” He paused. “I love you,” he added, and hung up. 

James apparently graduated from the Kinney school of driving, meaning fast and with little regard for others on the road, and they were in front of Justin’s shithole of an apartment before he knew it.

“They’ll ticket you if you park here,” Justin said, getting out of the car with the crate. “They’re fucking vicious.”

“It’s taken care of, Mr. Taylor,” James said. “I’ll be here if you need me again.”

“Um, right,” Justin said. “You can go. I think I’m just going to stay in the rest of the day. Enjoy this crate, you know.”

“I’ll wait here just in case,” James said.

Justin shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, and headed in.

Maybe this day wouldn’t be so bad after all. Brian was certainly spoiling him. And while all of this was plenty, _more_ than Justin had any right to expect from Brian, the fact that he’d already received such an extravagant gift and had been escorted in a limo all before noon made him suspect there was still more to come throughout the day. He tried not to get his hopes up, but somehow, he just _knew_ Brian was planning something. He wasn’t the type to go through all this without a purpose.

The elevator wasn’t broken, for once, and Justin pushed the button for the 27th floor with his elbow. He’d crack open some wine, maybe that smoked gouda spread, and then …

“Mom!” he exclaimed as the elevator doors opened. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Jennifer said, and kissed his cheek. “Surprise.”

“Surprise is right,” Justin said. “Shit, do you mind holding this so I can get the door open?”

She nodded and took the crate. “Looks like quite the spread you have here.”

“Yeah, Brian surprised me,” Justin said, turning the key in the lock. “He’s on a romantic kick, apparently.”

“Well, I think that’s wonderful,” Jennifer said. 

“It’s something, all right,” Justin said. He paused. “Did he send you here?”

“Brian? Oh, no. I haven’t seen him in weeks. I’ve been meaning to bring him over a casserole. He was looking far too skinny the last time I saw him.”

Justin snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d love to hear that. So, not that it’s not great to see you, but if Brian didn’t send you, then …”

“Oh, I have a conference starting tomorrow,” Jennifer said. “I thought I’d come up a day early to surprise you, maybe get some lunch?”

Well, it wasn’t exactly what he’d planned, but he hadn’t seen his mom since her birthday two months ago, and it would be nice to catch up with her. Besides, it wasn’t like he was getting anywhere with his art, anyway. “Sure,” he said. He stretched out his arms, once again feeling the tension from sleeping at his studio the night before. The resulting odor was not particularly pleasant, either. “Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Oh, of course,” Jennifer said. “Take your time.”

When he got to the bathroom, Justin made another attempt to reach Brian, but once again only got his voicemail. He was probably already giving his presentation, that son of a bitch. Only Brian would spoil the hell out of him with surprisingly romantic gestures and then go completely MIA. Justin stepped into the shower, turning on the water as hot as it would go in an attempt to soothe his sore muscles. He felt he should take a quick shower so he wouldn’t leave his mom by herself in his apartment -- after all, he had no clue how long she’d been waiting for him in the hallway -- but the water felt so good that he decided to take her at her world and take his time.

It was nearly an hour before he emerged, dressed but with damp hair. “Sorry I’m taking so long,” he said. “Just give me ten more minutes to do something with my hair.”

“Of course, honey,” Jennifer said, looking up from the materials she was reading on the couch. “Only, before you go, mind letting me know what I should do with those?”

Justin glanced over at his kitchen table -- well, really it was a cheap folding card table, but it was in his kitchen, so that counted. Normally it was piled high with art supplies and rejected paintings and sketches. They were all cleared away now, and in their place was a simple vase with the most exquisite flowers he’d ever seen.

“You fucking bastard,” Justin breathed.

“Gardenias, aren’t they?” Jennifer asked. “They arrived just after you got in the shower. They’re beautiful. I always loved their smell.”

Justin walked over to them, their sweet, heady fragrance drawing him to them as if in a trance. He gingerly buried his nose in the golden flowers, breathing in their scent. The love he felt for Brian, already brewing at a strong boil within him, was now bubbling almost violently, threatening to consume him entirely. Justin closed his eyes, hoping in vain that if he thought of Brian fervently enough, he’d suddenly appear right behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck.

“He’s turned into quite a romantic in his old age,” Jennifer said.

Justin blinked. He’d nearly forgotten she was there. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice hoarse. Clearing his throat, he took out his cell and snapped a picture of the flowers, then attached it in a text to Brian. _Message received and returned_ , he added, and quickly closed his phone before he was tempted to call Brian once again.

The flowers proved distracting, and it was another hour before Justin managed to pull himself together enough to head out to lunch. He made a mental note to buy his mom a bouquet of flowers on their way home; she deserved it for his inability to focus on anything other than missing Brian today.

“Oh, shoot,” Jennifer said once they sat in the limo. “Do you mind if we make a quick stop first before lunch? I completely forgot that I need to pick up a binder from a colleague in Chelsea before the conference tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Justin said. It was the least he could do after dragging his heels for nearly two hours when his poor mom just wanted to get a damn sandwich.

Once again, James managed to get them to their location in record time. “I’ll wait here,” he announced as he pulled in front of the building.

“I’ll stay in,” Justin said. “You go, Mom. It’s about time I enjoyed some of this champagne.”

“No, come inside,” Jennifer said. “I’ve told Kathy all about you. She’s been dying to meet you for ages.”

Justin sighed and reluctantly exited the limo. He knew he shouldn’t be complaining, especially after his behavior today, but the last thing he felt like doing was making small talk with one of his mom’s friends. It was bad enough when he had to do it with gallery owners, and then he at least had a chance of getting something out of it. Meeting his mom’s friends usually just meant being asked when his next big opening would be (who knows), what he was working on next (who knows), and where he saw his career going (who the fuck knows). It was frustrating, to say the least.

And Justin didn’t want to judge his mom’s friend, but her office was a bit lackluster. Given the stellar location, he’d been expecting an impressive interior, but all that greeted him was a desk and several closed doors. And there wasn’t even anybody _sitting_ at the front desk. It was strange; he’d thought the real estate market was booming. Kathy must be a really shitty agent.

“Let me just…” Jennifer peered over at the desk and found a brass bell about the size of her fist. Its clang echoed throughout the lobby.

“Ah, you’re here,” said a tall, thin woman emerging from one of the closed doors. She reminded Justin uncannily of Cynthia. “Mr. Taylor, Mrs. Taylor, follow me.”

“Mom,” Justin said under his breath, but she paid him no mind and followed the woman into the room. 

“Right on time. Mrs. Taylor, wonderful to see you as always. And Mr. Taylor. How are you today?”

Justin knew his mouth was hanging open, knew he likely looked ridiculous, but all he could focus on was the fact that _Brian_ was in front of him, a satisfied smirk on his face as he held out his hand, looking fucking hot as hell in a charcoal suit and the dark purple tie Justin had insisted he’d buy.

“Bri --”

“Won’t you have a seat?” Brian said, gesturing toward two armchairs in the center of the room. “I’m eager for you hear what we’ve put together for you.”

Too stunned to say anything, Justin obeyed, feeling practically boneless as he sank into the chair. But he wasn’t so out of it that he didn’t notice the amused look his mom and Brian exchanged. Those fucking liars. He was going to kill them, once he figured out what the hell was going on.

“We’ll begin with a concept you’re no doubt familiar with,” Brian said, and set a board on the easel in front of them. “Kinnetik. Launched in Pittsburgh just about three years ago, and already the most successful advertising agency in the mid-Atlantic. But what good is it to talk about that? It’s done. It’s already proven itself. It’s time to think about the future, about new challenges and new adventures. And so, allow me to present just that.” He lifted up another board and replaced it on the easel. “Kinnetik - New York. Breaking ground this week, accepting new clients next month.” He raised his eyebrows, looking _far_ too pleased with himself. “Any questions?”

Justin was too busy staring in disbelief at the mockup up Kinnetik - New York, but Jennifer raised her hand. “Do you have any materials for us to look at regarding what this project will require?”

“Of course. I’m glad you asked,” Brian said, and handed Jennifer a binder. “I look forward to hearing your thoughts on these.”

Justin tore his gaze away from the boards to look over his mom’s shoulder at the binder. It was filled with listings of all kinds of properties for sale -- houses, condos, brownstones, lofts -- and all of them in New York. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “What the hell is going on?”

“Was my pitch not clear?” Brian asked, his smirk growing even more infuriating. “I’ve purchased this building to be the site of the New York branch of Kinnetik. And since it takes a great deal of time and effort to launch a new division, I’ll, of course, have to live here, and I’m a humble creature who enjoys simple comforts. Good square footage, good light, top of the line appliances, stainless steel countertops… you.”

Justin shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ll leave you two to discuss this,” Jennifer said quietly. “I’ll just look at these materials outside.”

“So, what do you say, Mr. Taylor?” Brian asked as she left. “Interested?”

Justin didn’t waste any time launching himself at Brian, mashing their lips together as he tugged off Brian’s jacket and removed his tie. “I can’t believe you did all this,” he said between kisses.

“I’ve always told you,” Brian said, pulling Justin’s shirt over his head. “Business is all about pleasing the client.”

“Oh, you’ll be pleasing me,” Justin said, grinding his erection against Brian as he unbuckled his belt and helped push his pants to the floor. Fuck, it felt so good to feel that hot length rubbing against him again. “I can’t believe you kept … _shit_! Can’t believe you kept it a secret.”

“It was definitely _hard_ ,” Brian said, roughly pulling down Justin’s jeans and stroking his dick. “But I wanted to be 100% certain it wouldn’t fall through.”

“And you only found out today?”

“Last week,” Brian said, and knelt on the floor, taking Justin with him. “But what’s the point in doing something if you don’t do it … _big_?” he asked and, pushing Justin to the floor, took his dick in his mouth.

Justin groaned as Brian swirled his tongue around the head of his cock while using his hands to play with his balls. He knew he wouldn’t last long; it had been far too long since they’d seen each other, and after the day he’d had, there was nothing Justin wanted more than to come in Brian’s mouth. Or to be fucked by him over a chair. _That_ thought caused him to buck his hips, and Brian only sucked harder, like he wanted to fucking _devour_ him. Justin gripped Brian’s hair, unable to stop the litany of curses escaping from his lips as he brought him closer to the edge.

“Do it,” Justin gasped. “Fucking make me come. Make me shoot down your throat. I want … _Brian_!”

The first time Brian fucked Justin, Justin had described it as seeing the face of God. But now, as he just barely managed to keep his eyes open, as he watched Brian greedily swallow down his come and felt the way his fingers dug into his hips, Justin realized he was seeing something far better: the face of _Brian_ , and Brian in a way that nobody else had ever seen him. And ever would.

“Come here,” Justin said, draping one arm over his forehead to wipe away some of his sweat.

Brian wasted no time in straddling Justin’s waist. He took his cock in his hand, that fucking gorgeous hand that had brought Justin off so many times before, and began to jerk himself off. His face was flushed and beads of perspiration were forming all over his body. It was rough and hard and fast and Justin didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Gonna come,” Brian said suddenly. “So fucking close.”

“Come on my chest,” Justin said, tightening his hold on Brian’s ass. “I want to feel it.”

Brian closed his eyes and let out a low, guttural groan. Justin bit his lip as he watched Brian stroke himself one, two, three more times before coming. There was something primal in his release, and Justin couldn’t tear his gaze away from it. Still panting, still looking somewhat dazed, Brian lowered himself and carefully licked every last drop of his come off from Justin’s skin. Justin closed his eyes, buried his fingers in Brian’s hair, and tried his best not to fucking purr with pleasure. Once Brian was satisfied, he rolled over on his side, pulling Justin toward him, and kissed him fiercely. The taste of Justin’s come combined with Brian’s was intoxicating, and Justin was determined to drink his fill.

“You know, you never actually gave your answer,” Brian said some time later, still dropping little kisses on Justin’s cheek, neck, shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

“You mean you didn’t figure it out? I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

“It’s always nice to hear the words,” Brian said, twining his fingers with Justin’s.

Justin smiled and kissed the tip of Brian’s nose. “Yes. Let’s do it.” He froze. “Fuck. My mom.”

Brian snorted. “I told her to bring headphones. She’s probably listening to Madonna’s greatest hits as we speak.”

“I owe her flowers,” Justin said. “First I pretty much ignored her all day when she showed up at my apartment, then we basically sexiled her…”

“A bouquet of roses are waiting for her at her suite at the Four Seasons, signed with love and thanks from her favorite son.” He smirked. “And from you, too.”

Justin smacked Brian’s shoulder, but that only seemed to amuse Brian more. In fact, Justin couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Brian smile this widely, seen him so completely unable to hold back gales of laughter that he could only describe as joyous. Something told Justin he’d be seeing a lot more of this side of Brian the future.

“Well, come on,” Brian finally said, still with that nearly incandescent grin. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. Your mom’s only here for a week to help us find a place, and we still have to manage to transform this hellhole into an office worthy of the Kinnetik name.”

“You say that,” Justin said, “but I can’t help but notice you’re not exactly moving.”

“Caught out,” Brian said, and brushed back Justin’s hair. “I guess I’m just happy where I am.”

Justin pulled Brian in for another kiss, one that was gentler than any of the others they’d shared that day, but no less intense. It was a kiss of a yearning finally satisfied, to want something so badly it hurt, and then to finally have it right where it was needed most. It was a sweet, heady feeling, and for the briefest moment Justin could have sworn he’d smelled a whiff of gardenias in the air.

“Yeah,” he said, and tucked his head into Brian’s shoulder. “I am, too.”


End file.
